


To Pull a Thread

by Othalla



Category: Oxenfree
Genre: Bisexual Female Character, Cuddling & Snuggling, F/M, First Kiss, Love Confessions, Post-Canon, Step-Sibling Incest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-18
Updated: 2018-01-18
Packaged: 2019-03-06 13:31:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,343
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13412301
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Othalla/pseuds/Othalla
Summary: A year, Alex thinks, is long enough a wait.





	To Pull a Thread

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Sumi](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sumi/gifts).



> I love this game, and I definitely had a fun time writing this! So, yeah, I hope you like it. :)  
> Also lots of thanks sent to [thedevilchicken](https://archiveofourown.org/users/thedevilchicken/pseuds/thedevilchicken), who did the world a favour by betaing this for me :D

Alex is pretty sure that the white housewives of America would disapprove of her and Jonas, being step-siblings, lying on top of each other on the saggy old couch in the living room. It’s one of those things just not done, as they’re not really siblings enough to naturally be that close, but also not unrelated enough for that kind of non-familial lying on top of each other action stuff.

Maybe once upon a time she would even have cared.

But, Alex is pretty past that. Her biggest concern at the moment is changing the channel (because gods know she’s had enough of hauntings and ghosts for a lifetime, and watching actual people do ghost hunting stuff on TV for laughs is not her idea of entertainment) and getting Jonas’ elbow out of her ribs, because _ouch_.

“Stop squirming,” Jonas complains from his position beneath her. “God, I’m not that bony.”

Alex stops twisting for a second to raise an eyebrow at him, because that’s just not an accurate statement. While Ren is the boniest person on the entire planet, Jonas definitely comes in somewhere in the top hundred. He’s very bony. Alex has the bruises to show for it.

Jonas takes a deep breath and then sighs. “Fine,” he says, “have it your way.” He lifts his arms so that she can get in under them, rather than lying on them like she’d ended up doing when she jumped onto him a few minutes back. Alex smiles at him and wriggles closer. When she’s done, cosied up as close as she can make it, he puts his arms back down, around her this time. His arms are warm, solid bands across her back and shoulders.

It’s 4pm on a weekday. It’s summer. Mom and Stepdad are going to be home any minute now.

Alex, honestly, _can’t_ bring herself to care.

Today marks one year since the Island, and Alex decided when she woke up this morning that it was about goddamn time she started living again and not just endlessly waiting for the possibly inevitable return rewind setback. This time has felt different from the others right from the beginning. She wants, she wants so very dearly, to trust it.

She’s tired.

She plays distractedly with the frayed neckline of Jonas’ T-shirt. His heart beats under her ear, a steady thumping that almost lulls her to sleep.

“Have you talked to Ren today?” Jonas asks in a soft voice from above her.

Alex considers her answer for a long moment before replying. “Not yet. He told me we’d talk tomorrow.”

Jonas hums in assent and leaves it at that. The silence is a comfortable blanket wrapped around them.

Alex doesn’t miss that he’s playing with the ends of her hair, more turquoise than teal now, the same way she’s playing with his shirt. Like he’s forcibly distracting himself. Like if they don’t think about it closely, it’s not really _real_.

Suddenly, Alex can’t stand it.

“Actually, that’s a lie. I did talk to him.”

Jonas lifts himself up slightly and Alex pulls at a thread that's about to fall out in retaliation.

“Ok?” Jonas says finally, a strange note to his voice.

“Yeah,” Alex says. “And I told him we could meet up tomorrow. Because I had plans today.” She stops for a moment, giving it one last thought before barrelling on. “With you. Alone.”

Jonas goes still. This time Alex is the one holding her breath.

They’ve been skirting around not talking about this for almost a year now, Alex pretending not to notice when she catches Jonas staring at her too long at breakfast, just as he pretends that there is nothing wrong with Alex threading their hands together on the way to school.

Alex pulls harder at the thread and it falls apart under her fingers, and then she touches skin. He’s very warm. She burrows deeper into the space between his shoulder and head, breathing him in. He smells like her shower gel. Which means yet again he’s neglected to mention to Stepdad that he’s run out, because Jonas obviously has his life together.

When he finally moves, it’s to pull her closer.

“Yeah?” His voice is uncertain, like he’s asking her if she’s sure. Like he wants her to tell him it’s ok.

It’s not ok, Alex thinks. Not really. It’s not only the white housewives of America who’d have opinions. _Michael_ would definitely have opinions. Getting together romantically with your stepbrother isn’t what anyone would consider a good and morally upstanding idea. It’s just not done.

But Michael would also tell her to follow her heart, because what’s most important to Michael has always been that she’s happy, and so Alex can’t think he’d disapprove. Not really.

It’s not like she cares what the white housewives of America think.

“Yes,” Alex says, and she makes it sound final. It’s a whip of a word. A statement of fact.

Alex decides that it’s ok. It’s _fine_.

Jonas nods and turns his head to bury it in her hair. “Ok, then,” he says, and she doesn’t mention how unsteady and trembling his voice is. “That’s good.”

Alex lets out a startled laugh and lifts her head to look at him. “Yes, it really is, isn’t it?” Her cheeks are red, but so are Jonas’. She can practically count the freckles on his cheeks. His eyes are wide, the pupils big and dark in the badly lit living room. His mouth is slightly open.

Alex licks her lips. Jonas’ eyes flick down.

They don’t flick back up and so Alex, carefully, breath caught in her throat at her own daring, bites down on her lower lip.

His breath hitches audibly.

“You know,” Alex begins carefully, “I haven’t really kissed anyone. Ever.”

Now it’s Jonas who licks his lips, and he’s still not looking away from hers. “Oh?” he whispers into the shrinking space between them, his voice a breathless murmur.

“Yeah. I mean, I’ve thought about it. About kissing.” Alex brings her hand back to the frayed neckline but touches his skin more than she does his shirt, letting her nails trail across the dent where his clavicles meet. “But I never got around to doing anything more than that.”

It’s not a lie. Alex truly hasn’t gotten further than thinking. She’s looked, of course. She’d spent the majority of her fifteenth year wondering what it would be like to kiss Nona, or Clarissa, or even Ren. She’d spent her evenings fantasizing about leaning over in the communal shower and pulling Laura from gym class close, touching her wet skin. Alex vividly remembers Laura’s mouth as a thin red and glittering slash across a pale face, and she can’t help but wonder how it would feel against hers. She thinks maybe they’d almost disappear, twine together like she and Jonas are on this couch, almost impossible to separate. Alex thinks she could swallow Laura right up, if she tried hard enough.

But that was the year before the Island, and now she thinks about Jonas instead.

He catches her straying hand in his. His grip is strong. His fingers calloused, because like the stereotype he is, he plays the guitar. Regretfully, he isn’t very good, but he tries.

Alex has spent the majority of this last year imagining climbing up the stairs at night, opening the door that always creeks if you don’t lift the handle just right, and slipping beneath the covers of his bed.

Alex loves him.

She shifts in his lap, and he looks up from her mouth to meet her eyes. His pupils are even darker, now.

“Can I kiss you, Jonas?” Alex asks, and her voice is so loud in the silence of the room, even though it’s only a whisper.

Jonas swallows. For one long second, he doesn’t say anything. Then, he says, “Yeah, Alex. You can kiss me.”

Alex smiles, says “Thank you,” and bends her head to put their lips together.

She doesn’t think she’ll regret it.

She _won’t_ regret it.


End file.
